His Butler, Patient
by Insolent Witch
Summary: Alfred's real name is Sebastian. He has been waiting for the young master to reincarnate for quite a while, carefully tending the bloodline. Martha Wayne's maiden name was Phantomhive.


Patience, it's a virtue and Sebastian has never prided himself on his virtues. Still, over time one does learn some things. What Sebastian had come to understand was that patience isn't a choice, it's something one learns while waiting for the inevitable that cannot be rushed. He never wanted patience, although dealing with Ciel had demanded it. He thought that Ciel had tested his patience during life, but he had yet to learn the true meaning of patience. Ciel truly taught him patience through his death. Sebastian had waited decades for his young master to be reincarnated, to be bound with him once again. For what felt like ages he followed the Phantomhive blood, tracing it down to it's last remaining vessel- Martha Phantomhive.

Meeting Martha's husband Thomas Wayne had been a disappointment because, while impressive, Thomas was not his True Master. Everybody was a disappointment in comparison to his young master. To Thomas Wayne he became a friend, a source of guidance, a necessity for life. It wasn't what he had been searching for, but it wasn't unpleasant. He'd would never confess it aloud, but going through ages of waiting for his Master to reappear had changed him. Martha and Thomas had taught him the value of previously dismissed human traits like their ability for displaying compassion and empathy (when truly necessary to gain what one wants) along with their remarkable capacity for bravery and loyalty (even if it was frequently foolish). These things flavored souls and seasoned relationships between people, making for a far more sumptuous feast. Through his experiences he had learned to control his darker impulses, learned how to perfect the art of being a butler, and yes, he'd learned patience.

Tonight his wait was over. When the boy had been born he knew it wouldn't be long. Looking into the infant's eyes, eyes of a soul far older than the body it was residing in, he had known that it was only a matter of time. After all, this was destined to happen. Things were left undone with Ciel, although they hadn't known it at the time. That needed to be rectified and soon it would be.

He could taste it in the air, feel the summoning in his very core although he doubted that it was intentional. The moment was at hand, he glanced at his pocket-watch 10:47 P.M.. The child knew what he wanted, it was what he had always wanted, and this time Sebastian would make sure he got everything he desired. The young master certainly made quite the picture kneeling in a dirty alley with the corpses of his parents. The look in the child's eyes showed nothing of shock, just resignation and grim determination. He allowed the boy to shed two tears, one for each parent he lost. The last tears he would ever shed with an unfettered soul.

He knelt down, looking into the eyes that he's known for so long. And asked the question that didn't even need asking., but formalities were important. Details matter and the contract is crucial after all. Both spoke the words they had said so many years before. A few minor changes add a new mission, a new set of circumstances, but in all the ways that counted things were so very much the same.

The police and media come and do what they must, what they think is necessary, although nothing they do can help. He is the only one who can help his Master, the only one who can understand. He is the only one who will be able to protect him and guide him to only conclusion possible. He shows his presence when it is time to collect the Young Master.

Bruce looks up at him with tired eyes, "Alfred, take me home."

"Of course, my Young Master," he says, uttering the words he'd been waiting so long to say to the one person that mattered. As he ushered Bruce to the car, he heard people commenting about how quickly Alfred had arrived. He just suppressed the smirk that ached to get out. After all, for him, getting to this moment was anything but quick. It had required him to learn so much. While the hardest lesson and most despised lesson had been patience (the one trait of the ideal butler that he had been lacking). It was, however, a 'virtue' that was both necessary and unavoidable for the perfect butler. As a servant of Wayne Manor, becoming the perfect butler was the least he could do… and he was one hell of a butler.


End file.
